PART5

He removed another sheet from the folder.

It was a draft agreement.

At the top was my name.

Below it was a statement indicating that I voluntarily surrendered all beneficiary rights to the family trust.

My signature appeared at the bottom.

I stared.

It looked like mine.

But I had never signed it.

“That’s not my signature.”

Gregory nodded.

“We suspected that.”

“Who submitted this?”

“Your mother.”

My hands started shaking again.

“She submitted a document with a forged signature?”

“That is one of the matters we are investigating.”

Fred’s expression hardened.

“Do you have the original?”

“Yes. We have preserved it.”

I looked at the document.

There was a date.

August 19.

The same month Gregory had started trying to contact me.

Suddenly, the timing made sense.

They had been trying to establish that I had already given up my inheritance.

And when that didn’t work, they apparently needed another way to keep me from discovering the truth.

I thought about the baby shower.

The blue plate.

The walnuts.

The missing injectors.

My sister standing there with that strained smile.

I pressed my fingers against my forehead.

“Why would they go this far?”

Gregory didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he turned to the final page in the folder.

“Mrs. Danforth, there is one additional issue that I think you need to know about.”

“What?”

He pointed to a line in the financial records.

A payment of $125,000 had been scheduled for Friday.

The recipient was MD Property Solutions.

Michaela’s company.

The description read:

FINAL PROPERTY TRANSFER AND BENEFICIARY SETTLEMENT.

I looked up.

“Was this payment approved?”

“No.”

“Then why was it scheduled?”

“Someone submitted an authorization request using your mother’s administrative credentials. The request was flagged because it conflicted with the trust’s restrictions.”

I stared at the date.

Friday.

The exact day mentioned in Michaela’s message.

I felt as though the floor had shifted beneath me.

“What happens on Friday?”

Gregory closed the folder.

“That is what I am trying to prevent.”

He explained that an emergency review had been scheduled after the questionable transaction was flagged. The trust administrator needed to establish whether the proposed payment was legitimate and whether the beneficiary had approved it.

My mother and sister had apparently been told that I was expected to attend.

But they had also submitted paperwork claiming I had already surrendered my rights.

If I didn’t appear, they might attempt to proceed with another explanation for the missing authorization.

I sat completely still.

Then I asked the question that had been sitting in my mind since the baby shower.

“Mr. Ashby, do you think the tart was connected to Friday?”

He looked at me carefully.

“I cannot establish that from the financial records alone. However, considering the messages your husband preserved and the missing medication, I strongly recommend that you allow law enforcement to investigate that possibility.”

I nodded.

“I already filed a report.”

“Good. Please provide the case number to me. We will preserve every relevant document and coordinate with the appropriate investigators.”

Fred looked at me.

“Christy, we’re not going to Friday’s meeting without protection.”

Gregory nodded.

“That is sensible.”

He gathered the documents into a separate folder and handed me copies.

Then he said something that I would remember for a long time.

“Your grandmother anticipated that this might become difficult. She made sure you would not have to fight for your inheritance alone.”

I looked down at her letter.

For the first time since the baby shower, I felt something other than fear.

I felt that someone had believed me before I had even learned how to believe myself.

That evening, I received a call from Michaela.

I watched her name appear on the screen.

Fred was sitting beside me.

“Don’t answer if you don’t want to,” he said.

I considered letting it go to voicemail.

But I wanted to hear what she would say now that I knew about the trust.

I answered and put the call on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Christy!”

Her voice sounded unusually cheerful.

Too cheerful.

“Where have you been? I’ve called you all day.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Mom is worried sick about you.”

I looked at Fred.

“Is she?”

“Yes. She thinks you’re still upset about the baby shower.”

“I’m not upset about the baby shower, Michaela.”

There was a brief silence.

“Then what is this about?”

I leaned back.

“Tell me something. Who is Gregory Ashby?”

Nothing.

Not a word.

I could hear faint background noise on her end, perhaps a television.

Then she laughed.

It was a nervous little laugh.

“Why are you asking about him?”

“Because he has been trying to contact me.”

Another silence.

“Well, he’s some old lawyer. I think Grandma used him for paperwork. Why?”

“Apparently, he has been trying to contact me since August.”

Michaela’s breathing changed.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“That’s strange.”

“Is it?”

“Maybe he has the wrong information.”

“He has the right information. He says Grandma left me a trust.”

I heard something hit a surface on the other end.

Then Michaela spoke very quickly.

“Christy, listen. There are things you don’t understand.”

“Then explain them.”

“Mom was handling everything.”

“Handling what?”

“The estate.”

“What estate?”

“Grandma’s estate.”

I let the silence continue.

Finally, she said, “Look, you know Mom has had a difficult time since Grandma died. She was trying to keep everything together. You weren’t around much.”

I almost laughed.

I had attended every family meeting I had been invited to.

I had helped with medical appointments.

I had paid several of Grandma’s bills during her final months.

But somehow, I had become the absent granddaughter.

“Did you receive money from the trust?” I asked.

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because I saw the records.”

Her voice changed immediately.

“What records?”

“The payments to your company.”

“Those were legitimate.”

“Did your company actually perform the work?”

“Of course.”

“Then why does the trust attorney say the documentation is incomplete?”

She didn’t answer.

I continued.

“And why did Mom submit a document saying I had voluntarily surrendered my rights?”

Silence.

Then Michaela whispered something.

I leaned closer.

“What was that?”

“You’re making a huge mistake.”

“How?”

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Then help me understand.”

She suddenly raised her voice.

“You always do this! You always think everyone is against you!”

I looked at Fred.

He was recording the conversation using his phone.

I kept my voice calm.

“Michaela, I want to ask you one more thing.”

“What?”

“Why did you take my emergency injectors?”

There was a pause.

Then she said something I wasn’t expecting.

“I didn’t.”

I waited.

“Christy, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The messages say you had them.”

“Messages?”

“Yes.”

I heard her breathing become rapid.

Then she said:

“Who showed you those messages?”

I didn’t answer.

She understood.

“Fred.”

I remained silent.

“That stupid iPad,” she muttered.

The words came out so quietly that I almost missed them.

But I heard them.

And so did Fred.

I felt a chill move down my arms.

“Michaela, did you just say something about the iPad?”

“No.”

“I heard you.”

“You’re twisting everything.”

“Where are my injectors?”

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART6…